


As long as you know you got me

by lourrygum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Reality TV, This is DUMB, i literally may delete this in like an hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8362180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lourrygum/pseuds/lourrygum
Summary: When Calum arrives, there is obnoxiously loud Green Day music playing and the sound of a guy banging loudly on a table, an improv-drumming session of some sort. He steps into the apartment and immediately looks directly into the camera ahead of him, a You’ve-Got-To-Be-Kidding-Me look on his face. The camera guy stifles a laugh. or, 4 broke college guys sign up for a reality show in which they're made to live in a house with strangers. it ends up... not being as bad as it sounds.





	

**Author's Note:**

> and this is what i like to call *waves hands* _impulse posting_

Ashton is the first person in the house.

At first, he’s relieved that he gets some time to himself before having to deal with the three other strangers he’s going to have to live with for the rest of the academic year, but then he starts to feel a bit awkward. Like, what does he do now? Does he start unpacking, or is the 5-man camera crew that are currently filming him expecting something more interesting from him?

Trying to act natural, he decides to just unpack, muttering “I’m just gonna unpack” then glancing at the shoot director to see if that’s alright. Judging from the emotionless look he gets in return, no one gives a shit what he does.

Ashton’s emptied out all his suitcases and boxes by the time someone knocks at his door.

\---- 

If it wasn’t for the fact that Michael was stupid-broke (a term he had coined after he’d surpassed the level of just plain ‘broke’), he wouldn’t even have _considered_ reality TV. But when these admittedly sketchy-looking guys had shown up at his university and set up a stand on campus advertising the opportunity to “CHANGE YOUR LIFE TODAY” and, more importantly, earn some cash, Michael had jumped at it.

So now he’s doing what he hates most in the world – being on camera, and spending time with people he doesn’t know. If that was the type of career he was looking for, he would have fully gone into porn, but at least this way his parents won’t disown him.

The cameras follow him as he walks down the back hallway of the house; there are two doors on each side, leading to the bedrooms. Michael spots a head of thick curly hair and his first instinct is to keep moving and avoid interaction, but then he remembers that this is his housemate for the next year so he knocks politely. 

“Hey.” He greets him, his voice a little cautious. He hopes he doesn’t turn out to be too weird, although the producers would probably love that; watching Michael avoid this guy at all costs would probably look hilarious onscreen and great for ratings. 

“Oh, hey,” The guy replies, raising a hand to wave and knocking over a box of stationary material perched on his desk in the process. 

Michael stifles a laugh as the guy stares at the scattered paperclips with a look of disdain.

“I’m Michael.”

“Ashton.” He glances back up at the guy. “Sorry, this is the second time I’ve knocked this thing over. Unpacking’s a bitch.”

Michael purses his lips for a second, then decides that since his night is most likely headed in this direction anyway, with the day he’s had, he might as well seize the opportunity to… bond.

“I have vodka.” He offers, which is kind of blunt of him but he figures that simply asking Ashton if he wanted a drink would convey the wrong message: the message being that Michael _didn’t_ want to get shitfaced at 4.36 pm.

Ashton looks at Michael for a second before smiling this small smile and letting Michael lead the way to his own room.

\--

When Calum arrives, there is obnoxiously loud Green Day music playing and the sound of a guy banging loudly on a table, an improv-drumming session of some sort. He steps into the apartment and immediately looks directly into the camera ahead of him, a You’ve-Got-To-Be-Kidding-Me look on his face. The camera guy stifles a laugh. 

Accepting his fate, Calum looks up to the ceiling for a second, praying for strength, and then wheels his luggage down the hall, into the first unoccupied room. The next order of the day is finding the source of the deafening music, and he doesn’t have to look far. He pushes the door of the bedroom opposite his own open and watches as a tall blond with thick black bands tattooed around his forearm lays on his back on the unmade bed and plays air-guitar like there’s no tomorrow while another curly-haired giant bangs (Calum grudgingly admits) very rhythmically on his desk.

Calum’s housemates.

He spots the almost-empty glass bottle of Smirnoff on the window-sill and it starts to make sense. The blond spots him and stops playing his imaginary instrument.

“Hey, number three! Want a drink?” He points towards the bottle of vodka. Calum looks at the other guy, who’s sweaty hair is flopping into his face but still has a huge goofy grin on his face, his dimples denting both cheeks. 

“Please.”

\--

“What do I think of my housemates?” Luke asks later that evening, glossy-eyed and just a little past tipsy. “I think they’re cool. They all immediately decided that I needed to get drunk when I walked in, which is all you can really expect from your friends, you know?”

\--- 

“Cal, how long should I microwave this for?” Luke asks, holding up a packet of Instant Oats. The camera zooms in on the perplexed look on Luke’s face.

“I don’t know, however long it says on the back?” Calum takes a sip out of his coffee. His hangover isn’t _too_ bad, and the dull ache in his skull is an alright price to pay to completely skip any New-Housemate awkwardness. He doubted any of them could feel weird around each-other after last night. He’s pretty sure he told them a lot of shit, like, about himself. They all kind of did. They also agreed that they all found each other really freaking hot. Calum doesn’t think that should ever be brought up again. “Also, how long do you think it’ll be until Ashton finds out you drew on him in permanent marker while he was sleeping?”

Luke shakes his head in awe, tipping the oats into a bowl. “It’s weird, right? Like, he’s been up forever, has he not looked in a mirror yet?”

Ashton Irwin may or may not be walking around with cat whiskers drawn on his face. 

Calum laughs and takes another sip of his drink. It’s only been a day, but he definitely doesn’t hate living here as much as he thought he would.

\--- 

“I’m going to fucking kill Luke Hemmings.” Ashton tells the camera later that day, as he partakes in an ‘interview’ session, during which they’re meant to sit in a room and talk about how they feel or whatever. He’s just finally walked past a reflective surface. In _public_. “I went to class like this.” He has a stony look on his face as he quietly gets up, the look of a killer in his eyes.

\--- 

It spirals from there. Ashton puts copious amounts of glitter in Luke’s hairdryer, so Luke smears oil all over the soles of Ashton’s shoes, and Michael laughs a little too hard when Ashton ends up falling over so obviously, he ends up with post-its stuck to every surface in his room. Calum just watches from afar, over various cups of coffee, amused and way fonder than he should be. The producers lap it up and everyone’s happy.   
\--- 

It’s all fun and games until Calum ends up as the target. Michael runs into the bathroom as soon as he realises that something’s amiss, and he finds out that Calum is the one in the shower, and not Ashton. He pulls open the shower door, and Calum turns around, hair lathered with shampoo, to see Michael and three cameramen staring at him. Michael looks panicked.

“Um. Uh, Cal, don’t freak out,” Michael sounds like he’s torn between hyperventilating and laughing and it makes Calum want to freak out more than anything.

“What did you do?” Calum asks immediately, the fact that his junk is on display during this conversation adding to his overall anxiety.

“I put hair dye in that bottle.” He points to the shampoo bottle in Calum’s hand.

“ _What_?”

\--

Calum has a head of blue hair.

Ashton finds the situation equal parts hilarious and sad, especially since he was technically the one Michael was meant to get. 

Calum mopes around for a long time and won’t let anyone console him, and practically growls at Michael every time he assures him he still looks good. Ashton agrees with Michael’s point – it would take a lot more than hair dye to make Calum look _bad_. 

“Calum’s still really upset about this.” Luke frowns later that night over pizza. They ordered two, and Calum just came into the kitchen, put half of one on his plate, then disappeared back into his bedroom, a black beanie jammed firmly over his head.

“Yeah,” Michael says, taking a swig of what has to be his fourth beer. “We should cheer him up. Once and for all.”

So, Michael ends up blowing Calum (off-camera, of course). It’s not that big of a deal – or it could be a huge deal, depending on how you look at it. Ashton and Luke are right there in the room while he does it, mostly because Michael hadn’t told them what he was planning to do and they were too intrigued to leave once he started. It’s pretty much a fulfilling experience for everyone involved, since Michael knows what he’s doing with his mouth. 

\--- 

The next day, Calum’s looking a lot better but he still won’t take his beanie off and it’s making Ashton nervous because this was all just fun and games, no one’s self-esteem was meant to be crushed. 

“For what it’s worth, I like your hair.” Ashton says, sitting down next to Calum on the couch. Calum doesn’t have class until 4 on Tuesdays, and Ashton gets back at 2, an hour before Luke and Michael get back so they’re alone for the time being and yes Ashton does have all their schedules memorised, it happens. 

Calum looks at him. “Thanks that means so much to me.”

Ashton just looks at him, and Calum sighs. “It’s a lot to get used to, man. I mean, my hair colour was involuntarily switched.”

“Michael apologised. _Profusely_ ,” he hints as best as he can, eyeing the cameras warily. 

“Yeah but.” Calum blushes. “Still.”  
“I know.” Ashton says, and then there’s a silence, so Ashton shuffles over to Calum and wraps his arm around him. Calum remains stiff for a few seconds, during which Ashton throws an exasperated glance at the camera, before he eventually leans into him. Eventually, Calum falls asleep, like he is known to do on command, tucked into Ashton’s side and snoring softly. Ashton takes off his beanie as he sleeps and flings it out the window.

\--- 

They’re still shooting for the show, so no episodes have aired yet, but they’ve tested a few scenes with focus groups and stuff and they always do insanely well. Especially in the 18-25 age-group which is probably the reason for their increased popularity at college lately. All of four of them have been invited to more parties since this thing starts than they normally would be in an entire year. Anyway, it helps, in terms on confidence. Calum finds himself going out more without his hair hidden and when the dye starts to grow out, he finds himself indifferent rather than crying with joy.

\--

“So any romantic action in the house so far?” comes a voice off-camera.

Calum shakes his head. “Those three? No way. Not my type.”

\--- 

Calum is an incredible liar. 

Just that night, over their dinner, Luke and Michael start arguing over something stupid. Calum is so used to it that he doesn’t tune in until Luke says “shut up” and Michael shoots back “make me.”

Luke looks at Michael for a minute, and then they’re kissing. Luke wastes no time in pulling Michael on top of him so that he’s no longer in his chair at all. Calum watches dumbfounded, and Ashton has a coughing fit because he had chosen that moment to take a gulp of his lemonade.

“Guys,” Calum deadpans out. “You can’t have sex at the table.” And then, Michael is unzipping Luke’s jeans. Calum swallows. “Okay. I stand corrected.”

\--  
Michael wakes up fucked-out and sore in Ashton’s double-bed, surrounded by three boys who are quickly becoming his most favourite people in the world. 

“Two for three on initiation of dick action.” He announces to no-one in particular. “Ashton you’re next.”

“Shut up.” Ashton mumbles into his pillow. Michael can’t hide his fond smile. 

“Why do you talk so loud in the mornings?” Calum protests groggily.

“Hey, Cal,” Michael smiles sweetly. “How’s your ass?”

“Destroyed. ‘M gonna need a transplant.” Calum replies, to which Michael can’t contain his laughter, and Ashton can’t hide his worried glance. 

“Shit, did I hurt you?”

“In all the right ways,” Calum drawls into a pillow, not even looking up, and making Michael laugh harder as Ashton’s cheeks redden.

\--- 

So they all go on a date together, spending some of their TV money before they’ve gotten it. Michael mentions that this is the first time he hasn’t gotten the ‘guilt sweats’ from withdrawing from his bank account in _years_ and Luke finds himself grateful, once more, that they were all chosen for this thing. 

They play it off as four friends going to see a movie together and what makes it even better is the way they’re not allowed to film in the cinema so they’re actually alone together, which is the main goal for a first date. The cameras come back on when they go to get dinner, but it doesn’t even matter – they’re so absorbed in each other they barely notice. Which, in retrospect, could be bad because they probably weren’t as careful as they could be with what they said. Luke finds himself not even caring.

\--- 

The producers make a huge deal out of the first screening. It’s a huge event in this club in downtown in Sydney that none of them have ever been able to get into before. They show up in their blazers and shirts, and Michael even dyes his hair blue in preparation for the event.

Calum rolls his eyes when he sees him, to which Michael responds, “New rule: at least one of us must have blue hair at all times. Ash you’re next.”

Ashton makes a mental note to check the shampoo bottle before he uses it every day for the foreseeable future.

It’s a hit. They cringe all the way through at having to watch themselves on a massive TV screen, but everyone _loves_ it, the raucous applause at the end speaking volumes. They're all going to be fucking rich.

\--- 

There's a huge after-party, but they bail in favour of spending the night in front of the TV together at home, like the middle-aged men they are. It takes them a good hour to settle on something they all like, and even then, Luke just sighs loudly every ten minutes because it's not the one he initially wanted, and Michael eventually elbows him in the stomach to shut him up and Ashton tells Michael to watch it, while Calum soothingly rubs the spot where Michael hit, and. It's kind of perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is gonnamuke and im rlly sorry in advance


End file.
